Darkness
by WichitaRed
Summary: Heading back to Wyoming from Scott's Bluff, they encounter a variety of darkness


Darkness

Scott's Bluff disappeared behind them as they trotted along, their saddles creaking and the tall grass brushing their boots. They chuckled at a prairie rattler stretched across a bleached buffalo carcass, sunning itself in the warm autumn air, and parting, they gave it a wide berth.

Several hours later, the blue sky began churning with darkness, the clouds rushing past as the wind picked up.

"Looks like we're going to get wet," Curry grumbled, reining in to tighten his stampede string, button his coat, and pull up his collar.

Heyes circled about him, pulling his sorrel to a halt, and studying the dark multi-hued blue sky, he too secured himself for the incoming weather. "Maybe luck will be on our side, and we will find some shelter."

Curry rolled his eyes heavenward, "not now that you have mentioned it."

Setting their horses into a comfortable lope, they moved on. When thunder crashed, sounding like cannons echoing across the grassland, the horses flinched, Heyes' sorrel releasing a sharp whicker.

Curry hollered, "This storm pours down like it's threatening, and we might not be able to cross the North Platte."

"Let's just keep pushing." Heyes shouted back across the rising wind, "we'll see how it is when we get there."

The thunder had begun crashing non-stop, and with a tremendous down gust, the rain started. With each flash of lightning, the rain came down harder and harder, and they slowed their horses to a walk, not wanting them to slip on the greasy, wet grass.

In the distance, they spied a herd of buffalo enjoying the rain, as it kept the flies and other insects away. But, for them, the cold rain was quickly making them miserable.

They rode so close their boots would knock into each other, here and again, and as they rode, they kept glancing at one another, until Heyes finally said, "all we can do is keep going."

"I know, ain't nothing out here." Curry responded, then his white toothy grin could be seen in the afternoon darkness, "just hoping you might have had a better answer."

Heyes grinned back, "so was I."

To add to their misery, the wind began to howl, forcing them to avoid rain-soaked tumbleweeds hurtling and bouncing across the prairie.

With a snort, Curry's gelding humped his back, kicking out his rear feet; and jerking him up, Curry spun him in a circle.

Looking back, with irritation, because he did not appreciate the bay's kicking when he had been riding so close, Heyes snapped, "What the hell's got into him?"

Then both Curry and Heyes turned, for behind them came a sound like a train running full out.

"There aren't any tracks near here…. are there, Heyes?"

"No!" Heyes' eyes rose up to the sky. "Ah, hell!"

Behind them, the soft grayish-green clouds were forming into a funnel that stretched more than a mile across the horizon.

Grabbing their reins, they laid them on the horse's rumps, hollering "Hyah!"

Leaning forward in their saddles, Heyes and Curry gave the horses their heads as they pumped their legs against the animal's sides like the largest posse in the West was after them.

An eerie, hair-raising sound expanded behind them, and looking back over his shoulder, Curry felt a shudder of fear run straight through him. The funnel was spreading its way down to the ground, and as it touched, it began sucking up prairie soil and grass, turning its light gray color to a dark black. "Faster Heyes! It's heading straight for us."

They played the ends of their reins back and forth across their horse's rumps, hollering at the animals, and still, the twister was gaining on them. The winds were blowing so strong their hats were torn free, to whip and beat them as their stampede strings cut into the softs of their throats.

Never had they heard anything like its gurgling roar as it tore up the earth. It was growing closer and more violent, destroying everything in its path. As it overcame a tiny grove of Osage trees, it plucked them from the ground, their splintering death cracks sending chills down Heyes and Curry's spines. Pulling on their reins, they cut northwest, striving to get out of the storm's path.

Up ahead, Curry spotted a ravine bordering a creek and aimed the bay toward it, with Heyes sticking tight to his side.

The animals scrambled down the bank, Heyes and Curry leaping from their saddles and twisting the horse's necks back until they buckled to the ground. Once there they threw themselves across their horse's heads, pinning the huffing, frightened animals to the dirt. Sharing a wide-eyed, terrified look they buried their faces in their horse's manes.

There was a gut-wrenching crack and lifting his face, Heyes watched an old massive cottonwood tree so bowed over, its far-reaching roots were being pulled from the ground. Then it was in the air, skimming right over them, not two feet above their heads. He watched it bounce across the prairie like a rag doll, and then it was gone, devoured by the darkness.

Around them, water from the creek was forming a funnel, their horses were shrieking in terror, and Heyes thought that he and Kid were, most likely, doing the same as the water began shooting straight up. Burying his head, he kept saying, "Easy boy, easy boy," over and over. Not sure if he was mollifying his horse or himself.

Directly over them, the twister hopped the ravine, its passing taking mere seconds that felt like hours. Then debris was falling about them like deadly hail, and after a few minutes, there was a deafening silence.

The moment they lifted off their horses, the animals bolted up, their eyes rolling white every muscle shaking along their frames.

Holding tight to his reins, Curry rushed Heyes, latching him up in a hug that took the air out of him. "Thought that was it, really did."

Slapping him on the back, Heyes said, "me too, but if you don't let up, you're going to squeeze the remaining life out of me."

Curry let go, jumping back, "sorry."

Heyes smiled at him through his mud smeared face, "no, I feel the same." Taking Curry in his arms, he released a laugh, not just any usual laugh, one that soothed the soul and cleansed the mind, "we survived."

Climbing back into their saddles, they continued along the torn path of the twister. Its destruction was fascinating. Limbs straight through standing trees. Mounds of dirt appearing every couple yards where the tornado had ripped a buckbrush up. A lone flower still standing untouched amidst churned black earth. Trees that had been carried for miles dropped on their canopies, broken to shards like crystal falling from a table.

As they cleared a rise, they spotted a sod and stone house, along with what might have been a barn. The twister had chewed up the barn, corrals, and any other structures, so what was left look like a box of matches spilled on the floor.

They kicked their horses into a run, pulling them up so short in front of the soddy, the big geldings threw clumps of mud into the air as they all but sat down.

The home was demolished, one of its walls having blown in, with the roof tumbling down afterward.

As they jumped from their horses, Curry called out, "Hello? Is anybody here?"

They grabbed broken boards and began digging at the dirt, tossing rocks to splash in the puddles dotting the yard, all the while hollering for a person to answer.

Finally, the flat surface of a table emerged and grabbing each side; they pulled at it until they could get under it, then using their backs they shoved the table and part of the roof away.

Straightening, Heyes inhaled sharp, before him was a man's leg covered in mud, a stark white bone jutting out just above the twisted ankle. Carefully they dug the man free. Gently carrying him to a space beyond what had been his home.

Kneeling down, Heyes lightly tapped the man's cheek, "Mister? Mister?" Leaning closer, he put an ear to the man's chest, and that is when he noticed the rib cage was smashed flat. Closing his eyes, he listened, and after a moment, he sat back, looking up at Curry with a forlorn shake of his head.

Curry asked, "You think there is anyone else?"

They rushed back, wary of what they might find, both again calling, "Hello?"

Suddenly, they thought they heard someone crying and began digging with earnest, only to discover a shutter squeaking against the fallen wall. Looking down where he stood, Curry leapt back, his stomach twisting for his boot had been crushing a cornhusk doll.

"Keep looking," Heyes barked, his fear making him feel cold through and through as he could not help thinking that somewhere in this rubble was a small child, and possibly a woman. Then he saw what he feared most, a tiny hand sticking out from under a potbelly stove. It appeared, when the wall crashed in, it also threw over the stove, trapping the child. "Kid, here! Here!"

Quickly, they cleared out wreckage, lifting the stove to discover a girl with twin blonde braids. They both bowed their heads, biting hard of their lower lips.

Ever so gently, Curry lifted her lifeless, shattered body to his chest, feeling hot tears on his face, when from the corner of his eye, he saw another site he knew would haunt him. "Heyes, the mother is over there." He nodded toward the far wall, by the collapsed corner, "she's partially buried under the wall."

Walking out into the sparkling bright sunlight, Curry laid the child down with her father. "So little, so much life ahead of her."

Taking a deep breath, he smeared his tears, creating streaks across his face, and picking up a board, he went to help Heyes retrieve the mother.

When he entered though, Heyes was searching other parts of the home.

"What about the Mother?"

"Her neck is broken." Heyes sniffed hard, dragging his lips through his teeth, and with a nod said, "I thought it best to look for others, as we can come back for her."

After they were sure there was no one else, they dug the mother free, carrying her out to join her family.

Having found a pitchfork and shovel in the leftovers of the barn, they dug a wide grave. With profound tenderness, they wrapped the family in quilts retrieved from their home and laid them in the dark, wet soil together.

Once the grave was filled in and a cross placed at its head, they stood staring at the dark, prairie soil until at last, Heyes took a deep breath. "Dear Lord, what this small family ever did in your eyes to strike them down so horrifically, I will…." His eyes slanted to Curry, "…_we_ will never understand. I ask, would you please give them everlasting happiness in heaven. They have faced Hell here, please, let them be at peace in the hereafter."

Pulling his hat from his back, Heyes set it on his head and walked away.

Twisting the brim of his hat in his hands, Curry released a long shuddering breath that ended in "Amen." Walking to his partner, who was climbing onto his horse, he said, "Heyes?"

"Don't want to talk about it."

Nodding, Curry put his hat on and stepped up into his saddle.

Heyes' sorrel was already following the twister's path, and releasing another long breath, Curry turned his gelding to follow.

The sky was still covered in a blanket of dark clouds, in the distance, thunder crashed. They rode in silence, watching the streaks of lightning rip apart the sky ahead of them, no longer awed by what the storm had done, but fearing they might come across more demolished farms as they trailed it. They both also knew; they would stop at each one and search for survivors no matter how long it took.

Here and again, one of them would rub a hand across their face, unable to get the image of the little blonde child out of there minds. As the miles passed, other dark images filled their minds, dark images from their own pasts.

And, they rode on in silence, hoping they would be able to put this dark day behind them, and rebury an even darker day they carried inside them, yet again.

Author's Note: I know y'all have read a few different variations of tornados in my stories. I used to be a storm chaser and I would often think how horrifying it would be to encounter one on the open prairie on horseback. I suppose these thoughts keep popping up when I am writing. I hope the Twister Tales do not bore y'all none.


End file.
